


Futures

by maebyrutherford (maeberutherford)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Lyrium Addiction, Lyrium Withdrawal, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:29:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeberutherford/pseuds/maebyrutherford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a scenario I was thinking about, after the events of the Trespasser DLC. Don't want to say too much since discovery through reading this is part of the deal. I might do more with this later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Futures

The screams finally stop, so abruptly that it worries her. It had been her turn to tend to him, but she’s still so new to all of this, and being a particularly bad spell Cullen thought it best that she sit this one out. There was no sleep to be had, of course, so she had sat up in bed listening to crying, shrieking, and the unmistakable dulcet tones of Cullen’s soothing voice. Reading had been impossible. She’d been tempted to run downstairs and help so many times but was mindful of what Cullen had told her.

She hears the weariness in his footfalls as he ascends the stairs. When he appears at the door, his shirt is already off, and he tosses it onto a nearby chair. She throws back the covers and scoots all the way to the far edge of the mattress to make room.

“Is he all right?” she asks as he allows himself to fall beside her with a groan.

“He finally fell asleep,” he answers, rubbing his eyes. “Poor lad. Hopefully the worst is behind him, now.”

She turns to him and strokes his shoulder. “I feel so useless, I wanted to help.”

One eye pops open to look at her before squinting shut. “I know, but trust me, it’s better that I handle it alone. When it gets bad like that, with the paranoia…”

“I know. You know what he’s going through.”

“And you’re not useless,” he says a little louder, turning on his side to face her. “You do so much for them, every day. Trust me, they’re grateful. I’m grateful.”

She gives him a small smile and extinquishes the bedside candle before shuffling down under the covers. Broad arms envelop her, pull her close against a body that’s grown softer over the years.

“Have I ever thanked you?” he asks, voice low to a whisper, nuzzling just behind her ear. “Properly, I mean?”

“What for?” she asks, turning her head slightly.

“For this. For opening up our home to ex-templars. You’re sacrificing privacy and many a good night’s rest for this, for my cause.” He kisses her softly on her upturned cheek. “You’ll never know how much I appreciate it.”

“Cullen.” She turns around in his arms to face him, his adoring eyes partially illuminated by the moonlight spilling through the window. Even after countless stares into his eyes, into his soul, the way he looks at her still slays her, makes her feel unworthy, makes her wonder how any of this can possibly be real.

She lets her fingers trail down the square line of his jaw, forever prickly with varying degrees of stubble, and his tired eyelids droop slightly at her touch. “You’ve thanked me, many times. But you never need to. I’m honored to help them. And you’re my _husband_. Your wants and needs are my wants and needs; you know that, right?”

He grins lopsidedly. “I suppose so.”

His arms squeeze tighter around her, and he hooks one leg behind hers.

“Besides,” she continues, bumping the tip of her nose against his, “as grateful as I am to the King, this house is much too big for just the two of us. Might as well put it to good use, right? Even if it is only temporary.”

“Mmm,” he leans back a little, looking thoughtful, his thumb rubbing her hip absentmindedly. “About that. There’s a little cottage just up the road, I discovered it this morning when walking with Pup. Well, Pup discovered it. It appears deserted, almost didn’t see it through the bramble. Needs a little work, but it could be perfect for us.”

She props herself up on her elbow. “You mean, we move instead?”

“Yes. As you said, this place is too large for the two us, and despite what Rosalie says, we’re _not_ filling it with children.”

She laughs, particularly at the sassy expression on his face. “You can say that again.”

There’s a twinkle in his eye as he explains, imagining possibilities. “Just think of it, when word spreads of the good work we’re doing here, more will come. This place can remain the shelter, and we can move into the cottage. Maybe I could even hire help. It’s close, but far enough that we’d have peace and quiet.” He reaches out and strokes her hair, just once. “You deserve that much.”

She smiles and tucks herself under his arm, heart swelling with pride and love, with the promise of their future and the futures of the men and women that will pass through their lives.

“We both do.”


End file.
